


It's all for the Sake of the Case... Right?

by kiaramaz



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bottom Bilbo Baggins, Dancing, Detective!Bilbo, Detective!Thorin, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hate to Love, M/M, Rimming, Sexy Times, Sharing a Bed, going undercover at a couples resort, undercover detectives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaramaz/pseuds/kiaramaz
Summary: Bilbo, recently having been transferred to London Police Department, was just assigned his biggest case yet; a covert operation to take down one of the most notorious crime-bosses. To his chagrin, however, not only is he going undercover as a newlywed at a couples resort, but as the loving husband of perhaps the most infuriating man in the whole department; Thorin Oakenshield.A pretend relationship AU in which Bilbo and Thorin go undercover in a couples resort being used as a money laundering front to get the evidence they need to put a major crime boss behind bars.





	It's all for the Sake of the Case... Right?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing out a full story - with a beginning, middle, and end, - so it might not be perfect. Either way, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I know literally nothing about being a detective or money launder, I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows, so it may not be fully... accurate. Please forgive me OTL

The sun shown dazzlingly in the midday sky, not a cloud in sight. The road was packed with cars; not uncommon for a beautiful day like this. Surely, they were off to do something wondrous -- like go to the beach, or a cottage, or something equally pleasing.

Yet here Bilbo was; tapping impatiently on his car wheel as he glared at the red light, willing it to change. The car in front of him had one of those cheesy bumper stickers that made certain everyone who gazed upon it knew exactly that they had one boy, two girls, a baby, a dog, and a mother and father on board.

After staring at the bloody thing for an eternity, the light changed and Bilbo was able to move forward -- albeit only inch by inch. “Blasted traffic.” Bilbo muttered as he oh-so-slowly made his way down the road.

As to  _ why _ , exactly, Bilbo was in this foul mood -- other than god awful traffic -- it all began the morning before.

Bilbo was transferred to the London police department around two weeks ago. He was ecstatic -- finally moving on the bigger things, as it were. It took a great deal of adjusting to, what with the extra workload that came with working is such a big city -- but Bilbo was in love. Sandford was many things, but it certainly wasn’t eventful. So to go from busting underage kids at the local pub to investigating things like robberies, shootings, and so on, was quite a change, to say the least. But it was a good change. Unlike the other residents of Sandford, Bilbo wasn’t content to spend his days in uneventful comfort. He needed something  _ more _ \-- he needed excitement in his life. And boy, was he getting what he asked for.

A few days ago Bilbo was informed that he, of all people, was being assigned a covert operation to go after one of the biggest money-laundering groups on this side of the UK. This is how he found himself in Sergeant Grey’s office yesterday morning. He was shocked to the point of being incapable of speech that they would even  _ consider  _ a countryside detective-only-in-name officer like himself.

The man beside him in Sergeant Grey’s office, however, had no such inhibitions.

Ah, yes. Detective Oakenshield. The proud git who told their Sergeant,  _ very _ explicitly, that there was ‘no way in seven hells he would go on  _ any _ mission with some wanker from the boonies who couldn’t solve a case if the perp showed up in cuffs with a written confession.’ The man hadn’t even looked at Bilbo  _ once _ before launching into his rant.

It wasn’t long before Bilbo recovered from his shocked speechlessness and felt himself flush in fury and shame. Sputtering, Bilbo had prepared to defend himself -- but Sergeant Grey had already raised his hand to silence them. Detective Oakenshield quieted immediately; Bilbo would have found it amusing, how quickly he shut his blathering trap, had he not still been filled with pure rage and bitterness.

And then Sergeant Grey proceeded to explain, in a very calm manner, that Bilbo was perfectly suited for the job and his decision would not be swayed. Detective Oakenshield moved to argue again, but with a stern stare from their Sergeant he was silenced. Bilbo, himself, was -- contrary to his own will -- quite mollified at the notion that their Sergeant had such faith in him. Following this, Sergeant Grey briefed them on the basics of the case and where they were to meet the following day to prepare.

Which was how Bilbo found himself on his way to the warehouse where he was supposed to meet Detective Oakenshield -- his partner now, he supposes -- and the team that was heading the investigation. There, they were to be explained the details of their operation and would be given their fake identities.

It took a good hour or so to get to the location, due to the confounded rush hour. Bilbo pulled into the warehouse that looked distinctly abandoned; as it was meant to, Bilbo supposes. He felt nervousness bubble up in his chest and replace the irritation he felt. Could he really do this? He hated to even consider it, but was Oakenshield right? Was he too inexperienced for this kind of mission?

He pulled around to the back, where there was one or two other vehicles parked. He pulled over and took a deep breath, before turning the key in the ignition. The engine quieted. He counted to four before letting out his breath in a gust. Forcing his hands to steady, he got out of the car and made his way to the warehouse back-entrance.

The building was relatively large, and the investigative team filled up it almost completely. Bilbo’s breath was taken away at the sight before him -- it was like something straight up out of a  _ Mission Impossible _ movie. There were an excessive number of computer monitors everywhere; some showing security cameras surrounding the outside and inside of a certain building, others revealing the data of all known affiliated members of the money-laundering organization. Bilbo stood at the entrance, with what must have been a mortifyingly comical expression. 

Then an older man with snow-white hair and a long, equally white beard approached Bilbo, breaking him of his reverie. “Good day, laddie. It’s about time you got here -- we feared you weren’t going to make it.” The older man said with raised bushy eyebrows, though his expression was kind.

“Ah, yes, apologies. The traffic was just horrific on the way here.” Bilbo replied, suddenly self-conscious. He wasn’t that late, was he? The older man grunted in response.

“Yes, well, we better get on with it, shouldn’t we? My name is Balin and I am to brief you and Detective Oakenshield on the investigation. So, if you’d follow me,” Balin explained as he led Bilbo through the room to a door on the opposite side. Bilbo swallowed nervously as he nodded. It was really happening.

The room they entered had just one other person in it; Detective Oakenshield. Who was, in fact, glowering quite fantastically at Bilbo from his seat next to a desk. His thick brows were heavily furrowed and his mouth pulled into a tight line of disapproval. Bilbo felt the immediate irritation and fluster of wanting to defend himself; though against what, he was not sure.

“Detective Oakenshield.” Bilbo said stiffly, tilting his head in his direction. The other man’s frown deepened.

“Baggins.” Oakenshield bit out.  _ Oh, so he knows my name. Shocking. _ Balin looked between the two of them, open confusion. He cleared his throat.

“Right, well, sit down there Mister Baggins. I’ll make this as quick as possible.” Bilbo sat across the desk from Balin, and next Detective Oakenshield. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Balin handed the two of them files. He opened it and sifted through it as Balin set to explaining the situation so far.

“So, as you know, our primary aim is to infiltrate a resort we believe to be the cover of a rather sophisticated money laundering ring. We have it under good authority that The White is heading the operation.” Bilbo nodded along, his foot lightly tapping. He nervously rubbed his hands on his pants, trying to dry them. “We have been trying to get him for what’s going on five years now, I believe. We’re hoping to get the evidence we need to bring him down with this operation. It’s on you two to gather said evidence. Our priority is taking down The White, so you’ll not only be looking for proof of the money-laundering in the resort, but also evidence connecting the criminal activities to him. Everything you need to know about him and what information we have so far is in those files you have. You’ll have tonight to go over them and learn everything. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” The two intoned.

“Very well. Now on to your identities.” Balin continued as he handed two new files to Bilbo and Detective Oakenshield. Bilbo opened the file and cast a cursory glance at the front page, which detailed his new identity. Apparently, he was going under ‘Bill Took’. He’s thirty-five, from London, and owns a small cafe named  _ The Shire _ .  _ Interesting _ .

Bilbo was distracted from his perusing by the sudden indignant sputtering to his left. He cast a disdainful glance at an increasingly red and angry Detective Oakenshield. He almost fought back a sigh. What was the prat on about this time?

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Oakenshield bit out. Balin raised impassive eyebrows at him.

“‘Fraid not, laddie.” He replied. Bilbo stared at them quizzically.

“What’s the matter?” Bilbo asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“There is absolutely  _ no way _ I’m doing this. None.” Oakenshield snapped. Really, how could this man be so boorish with his superiors? And  _ what  _ in the bloody hell were they talking about?

“Do what?” Bilbo tried again, annoyance building as they continued to ignore him.

“You have to, Thorin. Orders from above. It’s either this or you’re not in the operation at all.” Balin explained calmly.

“Balin-,”

“What in the  _ sodding hell _ are you two speaking about?” Bilbo snapped. Two pairs of eyes turned to him and suddenly Bilbo felt very,  _ very _ small. Detective Oakenshield’s eyes burned holes into Bilbo’s head and Bilbo felt a flush creeping up his neck, though he did his best to keep his posture.

“Laddie, turn the page.” Balin said quietly.

Bilbo gulped with inexplicable trepidation, before doing as told. After reading the headline on the next page, however, Bilbo froze.  “Bollocks.”

_ Bill Took (Detective Baggins) and Travis Durin’s (Detective Oakenshield) marriage details. _

Bilbo reread the line three times before turning his eyes to Balin, who watched him silently. “Why?” Was all Bilbo could manage. He was going to have to go undercover for lord knows how long and he was going to have to pretend to be married to this… this  _ knob head _ ? 

Balin sighed. “Well, if you to had perhaps read past the first couple lines, you’d know why.” Balin said pointedly, but continued before they had the chance. “The resort you’re going undercover in is a couple’s resort, you gits.”

“So?” Oakenshield challenged, but even Bilbo could see it was a losing battle.

“So, it would be awfully suspicious if two men who were not romantically attached were staying at a resort  _ for couples _ . And being suspicious is the last thing you want when going undercover.” Balin sounded like he was explaining this to a couple fresh beat-cops, rather than seasoned detectives. Detective Oakenshield opened his mouth, presumably to continue arguing, but Balin wasn’t finished. “One whiff of anything fishy and the whole operation is shut down; The White gone with the wind. Do you really want to risk that?” Balin finished with a huff, staring at the two disapprovingly. Bilbo squirmed in his seat, recognizing the truth in Balin’s words. Didn’t mean he was happy about it, though. There was a large exhale to Bilbo’s side as his partner slumped in his seat.

“Very well.” Detective Oakenshield muttered, “Let’s move on with the damn briefing.” Balin nodded approvingly.

“Okay then. On to your identities.” Balin opened his own file.

Bilbo begrudgingly returned to the open file on his lap with a frown.  _ This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I said I wanted something more exciting. _

  
  
  
  


The car ride to the resort was driven in stuffy silence. Bilbo and Oakenshield (or Thorin, as he should refer to him from now on, Bilbo supposed. They were partners, after all.) agreed to drive in Thorin’s car, seeing as it was bigger and they had to show up in the same vehicle. It made for a painfully awkward and boring hour long drive, though. Bilbo daren’t try to make conversation, for fear of setting off the bomb which was Thorin Oakenshield. Nor did he dare suggest music or radio, for his partner didn’t seem the type to partake in that sort of thing. No, he definitely seemed to be the type to stew in silence for hours at a time. 

And so, Bilbo spent the entire drive in awkward silence, staring out the window and watching the buildings pass. Until the buildings turned to trees, then a small town with scattered buildings, and then soon later they were pulling into the parking lot of a rather large, extravagant building that was far too ornate for being in this small town outside of London.

Thorin pulled into a parking space a little ways from the entrance and turned off the car. Bilbo watched him take a deep breath, hold it for a couple seconds, and let it out in a large heave. He understood; he, too, felt so nervous he could burst. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. Then Thorin spoke, his voice gruff from disuse.

“Are you ready? You read all the files?” Thorin asked, though he never looked in Bilbo’s direction.

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” Thorin said with obvious discomfort. Immediately afterwards, he opened his door and got out, leaving Bilbo in his wake. Bilbo stared after him with the distinct feeling that this was going to be much more difficult than he originally anticipated.

Bilbo placed his hand on the handle of the car, but before he could open it, it was plucked from his grip. He looked up in surprise and a smidge of alarm to see Thorin standing over him like he just ate a whole lemon, skin an all. Thorin gestured for him to step out, and Bilbo did so without argument; much too surprised to come up with anything indignant or witty.

“Thanks.” Bilbo said as Thorin shut the door behind him. All he got was a grunt in response. Then Thorin got their bags from the trunk and the two were on their way to the entrance of the building.

The resort was huge, and the structure was greek in style. It had beautiful statues of both women and men lining the outer wall; some with drapes hung about them, others stark naked. Bilbo felt a faint flush rise on his skin at the sight. The building, itself, appeared to be made of marble, though the material was most likely simply a look-alike. The entrance was an elegant arch with an intricate pattern carved into it.

Bilbo held one of the massive glass doors open for Thorin to enter the building before following him in. Then, with a straightening of his back and a brief bout of courage, he grabbed Thorin’s hand in his own, significantly smaller and  _ clammier _ hand. If he was going to do this, then he better do a damn well good job of it. At least, that is what he said to himself as the other man’s hand stiffened and heavy, accusatory eyes settled on him. In defiance, Bilbo held Thorin’s hand more firmly and resolutely did not look in the other’s direction -- hyper aware that he could not, in fact, explain himself for fear of someone overhearing. He desperately hoped Thorin understood. 

Thorin seemed to get the message as they approached the counter and let the matter go, his hand hanging loosely in Bilbo’s own.

“Hiya, what can I do ya for?” A homely woman behind the counter said with a bright smile. Her name tag red Darla, Bilbo noted.

“Hello! We have a reservation under Bill Took and Travis Durin.” Bilbo replied, leaning on the counter and returning the woman’s smile. He had no idea what Thorin was doing beside him or what kind of face he was making, but he daren’t chance a look.

“Yes, of course! You’re the newlyweds, right?” Darla grinned.

“That’s us! The newlyweds.” Bilbo said with a small laugh. “I’m still not used to that. Newlyweds. Hardly feels real, right dear?” He turned to Thorin, and shoved his shoulder with his own. A look of surprise flitted across Thorin’s face -- though at what, Bilbo did not know. Had he said something weird? 

Thorin cleared his throat. “Yeah, I keep expecting you to realize how much better you can do.” He gave a deep chuckle. “But I guess you’re stuck with me, now.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bilbo laughed, leaning against Thorin affectionately. He felt his face heat up, and he prayed to God no-one noticed. “You’re the only one for me.” Bilbo fluttered his eyelashes up at Thorin, small smile on his face.  _ Good lord, was that too much? _ Bilbo’s heart was hammering violently against his chest. He’s never been on more than a few dates in his life, and he couldn’t handle this level of intimacy -- let alone in a public atmosphere.

Before Thorin had a chance to respond, Darla interjected with an amused, knowing smile. “Well, let’s get you two newlyweds to your Honeymoon Suite, shall we? I’ll just need you to sign here… There we are. Here’s a schedule of all the events going on this weekend, and here’s your key. This boy here will take you to your room. Enjoy!” Darla handed Bilbo their room key and gave an enthusiastic wave as the two were led away by a young man in a red uniform. Bilbo returned the wave as they disappeared down the hall.

The interior of the resort was as equally grand as the outside; the walls were made of the same marble-like material and there were classical italian paintings on all of the walls. The floor was a plush, mahogany carpet, and the lights were sheathed in dazzling crystalline covers. Bilbo and Thorin followed the uniformed young man to an elevator, and up four floors. They arrived at their room at the end of the hall, where the employee handed back their bags and left with a flourish. Bilbo unlocked the door with the key card and held it open.

“After you.” Bilbo said with his chin high. Thorin gave a quiet scoff before squeezing past Bilbo into their room.

Bilbo followed right after and nearly gasped at the sight of the room. It was gorgeous. A king sized bed sat in the center of the room with light, silk canopies draping all around it. A deep red velvet chesterfield  sofa stood off to one side of the room, with plush pillows on either side. There was a bedside table on either side of the bed, a chest at the edge of the bed, a large oak desk across from it, and an armchair matching the sofa on the opposite side of the room. Accenting it all was the pale red wallpaper and fuzzy rose colored carpet. Bilbo tried to tamper down the blush fighting its way to the surface. The whole room and decor was just so…  _ romantic _ .

“Here we are.” Bilbo said as he sat his bags down. He sits on the edge of the bed, the soft covers sinking under him. “Shall we get down to business?” He said, finally meeting Thorin’s eyes.

Thorin stared at him with one raised eyebrow, amusement in his eyes. “Sure, I’ll get out the files.” He murmured, leaving a confused Bilbo Baggins -- until he realized the connotation of his words and the context of which he said them. He felt his face heat up again as Thorin shuffled through his bag. Bilbo shook himself out of his thoughts and told himself there was no way Thorin thought… He cleared his throat and pushed the thought back as Thorin returned. He sat on the couch across from the bed while Bilbo pulled over the bedside table and sat next to him. They laid out the files and the event schedule and Bilbo pulled out his laptop. 

“Alright, let’s figure out our game plan. Balin suggested we attend all of the resort events and gather as much intel as possible.” Bilbo began, pulling out the event schedule.

“We should begin with anything that might give us access to staff areas. Hand me that.” Thorin grabbed the event sheet from Bilbo’s hands. Bilbo gave made an indignant noise while he tried, and failed, to grab it back.

“Hey-,”

“We’ll start with this.” Thorin said, pointing at the three o’clock afternoon event.  _ Couple’s Baking Class: Crepes. _ Bilbo held his tongue, realizing bitterly that it was actually a pretty good idea. Refusing to back down, however, Bilbo defiantly pointed at the item just a few points down. Seven o’clock,  _ wine tasting gathering. _

“After dinner we can do this. We should get know the other guests, in the event that one of them is doing business with The White.” Bilbo explained and Thorin gave a short nod in response, surprising Bilbo. He had half expected a fight -- instead, oddly enough, Bilbo felt pride bloom in his chest at Thorin’s acceptance of his idea. He continued on, seeing how  much he could get away with, “For now, we should go to a diner and grab lunch and maybe shop around a bit so we can talk to the locals and maybe glean some information off of them.” Thorin frowned in response and remained silent for a moment. Bilbo held his breath, wondering if he had overstepped his bounds. Despite his indignance at Thorin’s blatant underestimation of Bilbo, it  _ was _ true that he didn’t have much experience in this department. But before Bilbo could continue to spiral, Thorin gave a slow nod.

“Okay, let’s get to it then. It says here that there’s a diner a five minute walk from here, and is located in the town’s downtown.” Thorin said as he stood and slipped on his shoes and jacket. Bilbo rushed to follow suit, and quickly pulling on his stuff. Before he had gotten ready, Thorin was already impatiently tapping his foot at the door. Then Bilbo and Thorin set off without another word.

  
  
  
  


“ _ Fuck. _ ” Thorin muttered, once again dropping pieces of egg-shell in the batter. Bilbo tried his best to cover his laugh with his hand -- but apparently failed, based on the glare he received not a second later. “I’d like to see  _ you _ do this, you lazy sod.” Thorin said under his breath, making certain they were not overheard. Bilbo raised one eyebrow. He couldn’t even bring himself to be peeved, he was so amused.

“Sure.” He replied, before butting Thorin’s hip with his own to get him out of the way. Thorin let out a grunt of dismay, but conceded the batter and eggs.

They had been in the baking class for the last thirty or so minutes, though a large portion of it had been the resort’s baker explaining how to make the crepes. It had been dreadfully boring for Bilbo, who was already quite aware of how to making something as simple as crepes. Nor had they learned much about the investigation, as the class took place in a professional cooking classroom and not the staff kitchen. Logically, Thorin and Bilbo should have assumed this would be the case; there was no way they would have a bunch of bumbling couples get in the way of the professionals preparing dinner and such. So, here they were, with half a dozen other couples, baking crepes. Or rather,  _ trying _ to bake crepes. Bilbo feared they were quite far behind the other couples by this point. Thus, he set to work on the crepes.

First, he discarded Thorin’s entire batch of batter -- not risking biting into egg shell later. He could practically feel the stare of disapproval boring into his head, and it took all of his will not to break into laughter again. He measured and poured in the flour, salt, and butter.  Thorin was hovering far too close and watching his every move.  _ Probably to watch for mistakes to hold over me. _ Bilbo thought bitterly as he proceeded to grab two eggs, deftly cracking and dropping them in at once; not a fragment of shell to be found. Bilbo chanced a look at Thorin from the corner of his eye and quickly covered a laugh by clearing his throat. Thorin’s face was a hilarious mixture of awe and irritation, like he couldn’t decide which to feel.

“Think you can handle it from here?” Bilbo asked after he added in the milk. He couldn’t keep the playful tone out of his voice, which afforded him an affronted stare from Thorin.

“Hand it over.” Thorin snatched the whisk and bowl from Bilbo and began aggressively mixing it. The sight of this huge, masculine-in-every-sense man mixing batter positively  _ ferociously _ was too much for Bilbo. Surprised laughter bubbled out of him loudly, attracting a few curious gazes. Thorin proceeded to flush crimson and glare heatedly at Bilbo, which only served to add fuel to Bilbo’s laughter.

“Sod off. You’re attracting attention.” Thorin growled under his breath, casting a wary glance around at the other couples who watched them with amusement. After a few deep breaths, Bilbo finally got himself under control, though his shoulders still shook a little in silent laughter.

“Ahem, sorry. Don’t know what came over me, dear.” Bilbo replied. “How about I finish up the cooking of the crepes and you handle the filling?” He suggested sweetly, a wide smile on his face. Thorin watched him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he sighed and gave Bilbo a reluctant smile.

“That would be lovely, honey.” Thorin’s voice was deep and affectionate, and paired with a small smile that made Bilbo suddenly feel breathless.  _ Fuck _ . His heart accelerated, but he quickly covered up his shock with an equally affectionate smile. He wasn’t about to be outdone by Thorin, even if it was something as arbitrary as expressing love -- act or otherwise _. _

“Leave it to me.” Bilbo said confidently, accepting the mixing bowl Thorin offered to him. Bilbo then set to frying up the crepes. The other couples were already adding the final touches to their crepes. Their teacher making her final rounds, checking in on everyone, so Bilbo did his best to cook the crepes quickly without burning the thin pastries. It wasn’t long before he had a stack of thin crepes for Thorin to fill. They passed the rest of the class amicably, and enjoyed the delicious taste of their creation in the end. Bilbo found it incredibly amusing to watch a gruff man eat something as cute as crepes, but he was able to withhold his laughter in exchange for a hidden, enthused smile this time.

  
  
  
  


Dinner and wine tasting passed rather quickly, and Bilbo and Thorin actually gathered a decent amount of information. They discovered that the owner of the resort was actually in a great deal of debt just a few years back, though no one knew what had happened to it and how he was able to suddenly afford the renovations required to turn the adequate hotel into a well-renowned couple’s resort. They also found out that a reclusive guest was currently staying at the resort without a partner, which was an oddity to many of the guests at the resort. They found out some other tidbits of information which rose some red flags, though they weren’t exactly incriminating.

They were also doing their best to maintain the facade of being the ‘newlywed couple, which was a struggle for Bilbo who was quite unused to PDA. Thorin had wrapped his arm around Bilbo’s waist when they entered the wine tasting party and kept it there all evening. Bilbo found it incredibly hard to focus when he first felt that hand on his hip, though as time passed he grew used to it. What he couldn’t get used to, however, was the continuous small smiles and looks of affection Thorin would send his way. Everytime Bilbo met his eyes and saw that look, all his hairs would stand on edge and he had to fight furiously against blushing. He really was not suited for this. In the end, though, everyone seemed to buy their act, so Bilbo considered the evening a success.

When they finally made it back to their hotel room, Bilbo was exhausted; but he knew they still had work to do. The two of them silently made shop at the sofa again, spreading out their files. Bilbo pulled up his laptop and opened up a document, preparing to write down a report of everything they learned that day. They discussed theories and wrote down whatever useful information they had found out. Bilbo searched the web to see what information that they had learned checked out and how it might be related to other events.

By the time they finished working for the day, it was nearly midnight. Bilbo heaved a great sigh as he collapsed backwards onto the couch. Then a thought occurred to him.

“So… Who’s taking the couch?” He inquired cautiously. Thorin scoffed.

“You, obviously. I wouldn’t fit.” Thorin said with no hesitation in his voice, only pure certainty; which peeved Bilbo to no end.

“For your information, I am far too long for the couch as well.” Bilbo snapped, “And I don’t think it’s very fair to decide who gets the bed based on something as arbitrary  _ size _ of all things.”

Thorin eyed him stiffly for a long moment, as Bilbo seethed. He hadn’t even considered offering up the couch!  _ ‘What a crude, inconsiderate knob of a man!’ _ Bilbo thought huffily to himself. However, the longer Thorin held him in those unreadable, clear blue eyes, the more Bilbo felt his resolve crumble. He was about to say Thorin could have the godforsaken bed when Thorin finally spoke.

“The bed is big enough for two.” Thorin stated airily, casting a casual glance at the large, king-sized bed. Bilbo sputtered. “Though I understand if you would prefer to sleep on the couch and preserve your… integrity.” Was that a  _ challenge _ ?

“My  _ integrity  _ was never at stake.” Bilbo bit out, glowering at Thorin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go change into my pyjamas. I hope,” Bilbo glowered at him pointedly as he stood, “you’re not a blanket hog.” He turned and stalked off to his bag of clothes without another word. As he walked away, Bilbo thought he might have heard a quiet chuckle; but when he turned back around Thorin was gathering the papers with a stony expression. Frowning, Bilbo grabbed his pyjamas and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. 

When he returned, Thorin had stripped to his boxers and was climbing into the bed. Bilbo immediately flushed from head to toe at the sight of the man’s naked back, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably, willing his eyes not to look downward. He was quite glad that Thorin was facing away, as he begged his heart to slow down. It’s not like he’s never seen another bloke’s body before -- he was no saint. But something about the sight of Thorin’s broad shoulders and fit, tapering waist had Bilbo feeling like a swooning teenager.

And then Thorin was in the bed and the blanket was blocking Bilbo’s view. Bilbo mentally shook himself and willed his face to return to a normal shade again before dragging his feet to the other side of the bed. He obstinately didn’t look in Thorin’s direction as he slid into the soft bed and pulled the covers over himself, facing the outside. He heard Thorin shifting behind him, but fought the urge to peek at the other man.

Bilbo felt slightly tense over the idea of Thorin lying behind him -- in his  _ underwear _ no less -- and was incredibly aware of each movement the other man made. But gradually sleep won out and Bilbo felt himself drifting. As all tension left his body and he felt sleep pull him in, however, he thought he heard something --  _ goodnight? -- _ come from behind him. But it was too late and Bilbo was gone, sleep claiming him.

  
  
  
  


_ Warm _ . 

Bilbo slowly rose to consciousness. He clung to the warmth sleepily. As the dreams slowly started to fade, he slowly became aware of a weight wrapped around him that was far too heavy to be a blanket. At first, he thought nothing of it… until said weight pulled him closer and sighed into his hair. With a start, Bilbo was suddenly awake and staring wide eyed at the broad, incredibly  _ naked _ chest in front of him. Bilbo inhaled sharply.  _ Bad idea _ . The scent of cedar and sweat flooded his senses, making him feel faintly dizzy. Reorienting himself, Bilbo gently tried to untangle himself from a lightly snoring Thorin, blood pounding in his ears. 

Abruptly, the snoring ceased and was replaced with a sleepy groan. Bilbo froze. Chancing a look up, Bilbo found himself staring into bleary, curious eyes with one quirked eyebrow. Bilbo couldn’t help it; a blush bloomed across his cheeks and his ears, and probably his neck and chest and every inch of skin.  _ Bollocks. _

“G’morning.” Thorin mumbled, chest rumbling against Bilbo’s hands ( _ when did those get there? _ ). 

“Good morning.” Bilbo replied automatically, even as he gathered his wits and set back on extricating himself from Thorin. How had the man tangled himself so thoroughly with Bilbo? He only had so many limbs, for heaven’s sake.

Finally pulling away and rolling out of bed, Bilbo let out a huff of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Well, I had better shower and get ready for the day. You can use the shower after me.” Bilbo said hurriedly, grabbing a change of clothes and his toiletries. Thorin said nothing, and Bilbo didn’t dare look at him. Instead, he simply walked to the bathroom as calm as possible, even taking extra care to gently shut the door. Immediately afterwards, he leaned against the cold wood and closed his eyes, collecting himself. 

_ What just happened? _

  
  
  
  


After that event in the morning which Bilbo chose not to revisit, the day passed rather quickly. It was filled to the brim with events that allowed Thorin and Bilbo insight into the any dodgy activities that might be occurring in the resort. They began the day with a video call back to the team headquarters, detailing everything they learned so far back to Balin. Balin advised them to continue attending as many events as possible and continue getting close to other guests, as well as proposed they investigate this mystery guest they had heard about the day before. After the video call. Bilbo and Thorin planned out their whole day.

First was berry picking and a jam making class. They had spent the morning picking strawberries from the resort’s garden, chatting with the other couples as they worked in the blazing sun. Bilbo and Thorin were working much better together by this point, and even Bilbo was surprised by how well they played the part of newlyweds.

The berry picking and chatting with other couples didn’t reveal much, but Bilbo found out that the mystery guest they were checking out hadn’t left their room in days. Bilbo discovered this when walking to a young couple who were staying in the room next to the man’s; a Lizzy and Will Darling.

Following the berry picking was the jam making class. Using the strawberries they picked, Bilbo and Thorin set to making the jam. Surprisingly, Thorin was a natural at it -- not that the sight of Thorin studiously smooshing strawberries while frowning magnificently didn’t still invoke heavy amusement from Bilbo and many of the other guests taking the class. 

Bilbo spent much of this class chatting with the aforementioned young couple. He and the lovely young woman named Lizzy, who couldn’t be more than twenty-three years old, gossiped about other guests -- trading scandalous information they’d heard. They also spent a great deal of time hiding snickers at their respective struggling spouses.

Not much information was gathered from this gossip session. However, Bilbo was invited by Lizzy to a small gathering she and the other guests were having that evening, after Salsa Dancing class. She was having some of the other couples over in her room to have some drinks with her and her spouse. Bilbo promised that he and Thorin would be there. Afterward, Bilbo told Thorin about the evening drinks and how he wanted to check out the mystery guest while they were there. Thorin gave Bilbo an impressed nod, saying that it was a good plan. Bilbo felt his stomach flutter, but quickly shoved the feeling down. They then went and got cleaned up before heading to the BBQ the resort was having for all guests.

  
  
  
  


The rest of the afternoon and dinner passed by so quickly, with so much socializing and inconspicuous investigating that by the time Bilbo found himself in the ballroom, he had briefly wondered how he had gotten there. The ballroom was massive and almost had the appearance of a cathedral, in its decor and architecture. The ceiling rose in a high dome shape, making every sound in the room echo in its vastness. Three sets of large, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a faint golden hue on the room. The walls were lined with stone pillars in arches, and the floor was a beautiful white and off-white checkered pattern. At the opposite end of the entrance was a large stage, presumably where the band would play.

Bilbo stood next to Thorin, who casually had his hand on Bilbo’s waist.  _ Still can’t get used to that _ . Bilbo was wearing a casual knitted, gray jumper and black slacks. Thorin, on the other hand, was wearing a sleek, black, long-sleeve button up top over black slacks; even his hair was slicked back. When Bilbo had first seen him, he had felt his mouth completely go dry and he didn’t breathe for at least a full minute. Then the moment passed and Bilbo tore his eyes away, suddenly aware that he was  _ severely _ underdressed. He was half tempted to get changed, but that would alert Thorin to how damn aware Bilbo was of him -- so, he sucked it up and went to the ballroom dressed as he was.

There were half a dozen other couples there -- equally dressed up to the nine, as Thorin was, -- which left the room feeling rather empty. Lizzy and Will stood not too far from him and Thorin, though they were completely enraptured in the others attention. Lizzy was giggling at something Will had said when a tall, gaunt looking woman with a perpetual frown addressed the small group.

“Alright, it’s time to begin class. I trust you all have your partners? Right then. Let’s get into form then. One arm around the waist and the other holding your partner’s hand -- like so.” The woman demonstrated with her partner, but Bilbo’s eyes were quickly pulled away. 

He inhaled sharply as Thorin’s hand slid from his waist to his lower back, and Bilbo was pulled flush against Thorin’s chest. He looked up with wide eyes at Thorin, only to find him looking back with something unreadable in his eyes -- whatever it was, though, set Bilbo’s blood on fire. Thorin raised his right hand, which Bilbo took in his left. Thorin’s hot breath ghosted across Bilbo’s face.  _ He’s so damn close. _ Bilbo willed himself to remain calm as he rested his right hand on Thorin’s shoulder and forced himself not to look away. His skin felt oddly warm where he touched Thorin.

The teacher must have said something else, because abruptly he and Thorin were moving. Bilbo felt himself moving to the pace Thorin set, copying his movements. They moved to a silent beat, taking one, two steps forward, then two back; their hips moving with the rhythm their feet set. The whole time, Bilbo’s eyes were locked hotly on Thorin’s, all sounds drowning out.

Bilbo was spun away, stopping when his and Thorin’s locked hands didn’t allow him any further -- and then he was spinning back. He found himself with his back pressed to Thorin’s chest, Thorin’s left hand resting on his hip and his right still tangled in Bilbo’s left. And then Bilbo did another spin, but when he came back this time Thorin placed his hand back on Bilbo’s lower back and they were back to doing steps.

Bilbo felt as though he was in a trance as he followed Thorin’s steps. His hand sat on Thorin’s chest, held captive by the two of their bodies pressing together. Their breath mixed together as they moved to the invisible beat, and Bilbo briefly wondered when they had gotten so close that their noses were practically touching. Then Thorin was staring at Bilbo with hooded eyes and their noses were brushing. Bilbo could practically taste Thorin... 

A cough directly to Bilbo’s left made him nearly jump out of his skin. He did, however, leap back from Thorin’s warm hold. His heart pounded and he felt breathless. Lizzy stood in front of him, with hands on her hips and scowl. Her face was all amusement though.

“Sorry to… disturb you guys, but class ended and we were just about to head back to our room for those drinks. You still coming?” Lizzy asked, laughter in her eyes.

Bilbo went to answer, but found his throat incapable of working. He coughed into his fist awkwardly.

“Yeah, of course. We’ll be right there.” He prayed no one noticed how rough his voice was. His heart still hadn’t calmed down -- and at the feel of a hand slipping into his own, his heart only began hammering harder. Thorin murmured his agreement, speaking for the first time since they began class. The gruff cadence to Thorin’s voice startled Bilbo slightly, but he wrote it off to disuse.

“Lovely! Our room is number 204, we’ll be waiting for you.” And then she was off, catching up with her spouse who was waiting by the door. Now, it was just him and Thorin, alone in the vast ballroom; his breathing seeming impossibly loud in the deafening silence. He cast a glance at Thorin, who was watching him with those same hooded eyes, though there was an entertained air to him now as well. Bilbo quickly looked away.

“This wasn’t your first time dancing, was it?” Bilbo said accusingly, though he couldn’t force himself to put much heat into it. Thorin’s only response was a quiet chuckle.

  
  
  
  


The night ended up being a bit of a failure, much to Bilbo’s disappointment. Bilbo had everything perfectly planned out; first, he was going to drink a decent amount, and pretend to have drank too much -- which brilliantly, seeing as he could hold his liquor quite well. Even after the other couples, including Lizzy and Will, were well beyond drunk, Bilbo only had a mild buzz. He then claimed to the whole room that he was going to ask their neighbours if they’d care to partake in their activities, making certain to put an air of drunken generosity on. Lizzy tried to stop him, but was much too drunk herself to even hold on to a coherent thought, let alone put up a convincing argument. So off Bilbo went, leaving Thorin sitting on a couch having a deep conversation with Will about football, and went next door. It was going much better than he could have imagined. With this, he would be able to get visual of the mystery guest, and even perhaps get some answers out of him, if the man agreed to join them. Of course, Bilbo didn’t think it would go  _ that  _ well. In fact, he assumed the man would promptly slam the door on his face. But at least Bilbo would have a face to identify them, in the event that the man was later seen interacting with The White.

This is where things started to spiral. It began when the man answered the door, and out came a short, man who could only be described as looking… dull. And then the man, ‘Gerald’ he said his name was, actually  _ agreed _ to come over for drinks. Bilbo was slightly put off, yes, but he held hope that he would get some kind of useful information. That is, until three drinks later when Gerald spilled everything… And told the story of how he and his newly divorced wife had spent their honeymoon here, and how this weekend would have been their anniversary. He then proceeded to begin sobbing as Lizzy handed him a tissue, a couple other women patting his back and saying soothing words.

Disappointment made Bilbo deflate immediately. It was a bust; a dead-end. Gerald was the only thing that could have led them to The White, and he just ended up being a heart-broken sap. A few drinks and unmemorable conversations later, Bilbo tapped Lizzy on the shoulder and informed her that he was feeling tired and would return to his room. He then fetched Thorin, who was currently talking with one of the husbands Bilbo hadn’t met. Thorin simply nodded when Bilbo gave him the same excuse. He promptly said goodbye to his chatting buddy, and followed Bilbo back to their rooms silently. As soon as they got back to their rooms, Bilbo collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“We’re screwed.” Bilbo groaned, laying back against the sofa and closing his eyes, irritation filling him. “With Gerard just being a pitiful sod, with likely absolutely nothing to do with money-laundering or anything illegal for that matter, all we’ve got is a whole bunch of useless information that proves the resort is shady and nothing more.” Bilbo felt the couch beside him dip under Thorin’s weight as he presumably sat next to Bilbo. “What do we even do at this point? We stay much longer and we’re liable to compromise our cover, but we’re two days in and got nothing. We’re supposed to be checking out Monday. What are we to  _ do _ , Thorin?” Bilbo finally opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at Thorin. This was his first chance to prove that he could make it in the big city. What if he fails and they decide he’s not suited for London afterall?

Thorin returned his stare levelly while he appeared to be thinking of something. “I heard something earlier that may be a lead.” Thorin began, and Bilbo sat up immediately, his full attention on Thorin. “Mister Darling briefly mentioned something about a monthly charity raffle. All I could get out of him was when it was, though. Said it’s all he knew.” Thorin explained, and Bilbo’s mind began racing.

“But how could they launder money, though? Don’t charity events usually use cheques?” Thorin nodded solemnly, but Bilbo continued. “But on the off chance that they choose to send cash to the charity… Then I believe, partner, that I might just have a plan.” A slow smirk formed on Bilbo’s lips as he turned back to Thorin, who simply looked at he curiously.

“When’s the raffle?”

  
  
  
  


Once again, Bilbo woke up feeling inexplicably warm and snug. He felt equal mixture dread and fiercely embarrassed. In contrast to the morning before, though, the source of the warmth was at Bilbo’s back. It appeared Bilbo was… the little spoon. His face flushed, and he was glad to be facing away from Thorin. Once again, Bilbo set on extricating himself from Thorin’s very  _ bare _ arms.  _ I should have gave in and slept on the couch. _

As Bilbo was pulling away, however, he was abruptly dragged back into the warmth of Thorin’s embrace; even closer than before, if possible. Bilbo felt Thorin bury his face in Bilbo’s hair and let out a sigh of contentment. All of the breath went out of Bilbo as he froze in place. It took a good two minutes before Bilbo could even  _ try _ to say something.

“Thorin… Thorin. Wake up.” He tried, wiggling in Thorin’s firm grasp. All he got in response was a sleepy growl.

“Thorin, get up. You’re suffocating me.”

Thorin mumbled  _ five more minutes _ into Bilbo’s curls, squeezing Bilbo -- and then he...  _ kissed _ Bilbo’s hair. Bilbo tensed, his wiggling ceasing.  _ Had he just…? _

And then Thorin was rolling away and Bilbo was free of Thorin’s deadly grasp. With a hand over his chest, Bilbo willed his heart to slow down before it exploded. At once, he rolled out of bed and pointedly avoided looking at the bed and the person who currently inhabited it.

“I’m going to go take a shower while you wake up.” Bilbo muttered, not sure if Thorin heard it. Then he once again hastily grabbed his clothing and fled to the bathroom.  _ Thank god the mission will be over soon. I’m not sure how much more of this I can survive. _

By the time Bilbo got out of the shower, Thorin was sitting on the couch with a steaming coffee and was pouring over their notes.

“Shower’s free.” Bilbo said as casually as possible as Thorin set down his coffee. All he gave was a grunt of acknowledgement as he continued to read the documents in from of him. Bilbo set to make a tea while Thorin finished reading and set down his work. Slightly relieved, Bilbo sat down as Thorin got up and left to take his own shower. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to be so close to Thorin. Bilbo flushed as he remembered what he might have, possibly, maybe felt Thorin do to his hair this morning.

Shaking his head to clear it, Bilbo set to work, figuring out their plan for the day. He and Thorin had until eight in the evening to do some investigation, before the charity raffle began. There wasn’t much going on until the grand event, but Bilbo wanted to gather as much about the raffle before he and Thorin actually went.

So Bilbo scanned the resort events and even researched to see if any events were happening in the town that day as well. After a few minutes, he had narrowed the possibilities down to about seven options. Bilbo was just organizing them into a list ranking what he thought was best when the jingling of Thorin’s phone began going off from the bedside table distracted him. Bilbo glanced at the phone.  _ Fili _ the phone read.

“Thorin!” Bilbo called, getting up from the couch and making his way to the bathroom. He raised his hand to knock on the door. “Your phone is --” Bilbo was cut off as his fist didn’t hit anything. He stumbled a little, more out of surprise than the force of knocking, and fell into something solid. Something solid which was very much  _ not _ a door.

A heavy set of hands settled on his shoulders. “You okay?” Thorin’s voice rumbled against Bilbo’s face, making Bilbo realize that the solid thing in which his face was smooshed against was, in fact, the hot, damp, soapy smelling chest of one  _ Detective Thorin Oakenshield _ . Bilbo abruptly lifted his face away from Thorin’s chest only to fill with immediate regret -- because the movement, paired with Thorin’s hands on his shoulders holding him place, brought him approximately one inch from the other man’s face. 

Wet hair hung messily around Thorin’s face and framed his amused expression. Bilbo’s breath caught in his throat and he wet his lips nervously. Thorin’s eyes shot down to Bilbo’s mouth at the movement, and suddenly the amusement was gone and was replaced with something…  _ different. _ Something heated. Bilbo’s stomach fluttered. He felt warm all over, heart pounding so loud it was a miracle Thorin couldn’t hear it.

Bilbo nearly gasped when Thorin’s nose brushed his own, not processing what was happening -- and then heated lips captured Bilbo’s. Bilbo’s brain short-circuited, and he found his lips moving against Thorin’s chapped ones as though own their accord. His hands slipped onto Thorin’s bare chest as he tilted his head to give better access to the eager mouth. The kiss was deep, but it wasn’t enough and it left Bilbo wanting more. A hand slid down from Bilbo’s shoulder and slid under the back of Bilbo’s shirt, resting on his bare lower back. Bilbo gasped at the sudden contact, and Thorin took it as an opportunity and slipped his tongue in, exploring Bilbo’s mouth. Bilbo moaned against the intrusion, hands rising to wrap around the back of Thorin’s neck and tangle in his hair.

Then the shrill sound of Thorin’s ringtone went off again, breaking Bilbo out of his stupor. With a jolt, he pulled away from Thorin, breathless. Thorin kept his hands on Bilbo’s shoulder and waist, looking at him with a question clear in his eyes.  _ ‘And lust’  _ Bilbo’s fuddled brain supplied.

“Your, ah-, your phone is ringing.” Bilbo murmured, avoiding Thorin’s eyes. “Might be, you know, important.” He added when Thorin didn’t respond, feeling like he had to explain himself for some odd reason. Then Thorin’s hands and warmth were gone and a second later the ringing stopped, replaced with Thorin giving what sounded more like a growl than a greeting.

Bilbo shuffled back to their work area and pulled out his laptop, preparing the video call with headquarters. A couple minutes later, Thorin sat next to him on the couch and Bilbo hit dial, not looking at him. His heart still thrummed loudly in his chest.

  
  
  
  
  


The morning was passed by with another trip into town, checking out the small shops littering the small downtown. They didn’t learn much more than they had their previous trip out, but Bilbo enjoyed their time in the town. The morning was slightly cool and there was a comforting lull to the town, most likely attributed to it being relatively early on a Sunday morn. Bilbo leisurely browsed a natural goods store, grabbing some honey and cream; among other things. Having a hard time finding such things in London, Bilbo was glad to have found some while he was here. Plus, if all things went according to plan, he’d be heading home tomorrow and he could use them right away. Dampening on his enjoyment, though, was the never straying gaze he could feel boring into his skull at all times. Thorin had hardly said a single word all morning, and had settled on simply watching Bilbo as they went about their shopping. It bothered Bilbo to no end -- not because the stare was  _ unwanted _ per-se, but more like it was a constant reminder of what had occurred that morning, outside the shower. Bilbo felt heat rise as the memory came to mind again. He resisted the urge to touch his lips, or ponder on what it could have meant. 

Stopping for a quick dinner at the local diner, they saw Will and Lizzy as soon they entered. They were invited to their table, where they sat and discussed various things; though namely, the charity raffle this evening. Apparently Lizzy knew more about it than Will did, so Bilbo and Thorin were able to gather a decent amount of information about it.

They discovered that the charity was changed once a month, every guest had to pay a hefty amount to enter and be a part of the event, and whoever won got an all-expenses paid trip to the resorts sister resort in Italy. They also found out that the payments for the raffle were exclusively made via credit. When questioned on how the charity received the money, however, the young couple had no idea and seemed baffled that that was even a concern. Bilbo quickly covered by spewing something about not trusting certain money transferring companies to give the full amount to the charities, which Lizzy and Will seemed to buy easily enough. 

The rest of their afternoon, was less fruitful, though. They didn’t learn anything else about the charity raffle nor anything else suspicious about the resort in general. When it finally came time for the event, Bilbo and Thorin went back to their rooms to get changed. Bilbo, not wanting to be caught underdressed again, wore his best suit. It was dark gray -- almost black --, had two buttons, a pair of silver cufflinks, and was worn over a white dress shirt and a deep blue tie. The suit was tailor made, and hugged his body nicely. Bilbo was glad he had thought to pack it.

When Thorin emerged from the bathroom in a three piece, black pinstripe suit over a dark red tie, Bilbo nearly drooled in his open gaping; equal parts annoyed that Thorin could pull off something so gaudy and incredibly, unbearably,  _ aroused _ . Thorin noticed his stare, of course, but said nothing -- though Bilbo could have sworn he saw a self-satisfied smirk grace his lips before he offered Bilbo his arm and they headed down to the event together.

Bilbo and Thorin arrived at the event just as it was finished being set up. It was set in the ballroom, though now it was filled with tables covered in white cloth and dishes and chairs for six. On top of each table was a crystalline vase filled with bouquets of various kinds. Most common was roses and carnations, though there were plenty of lilies and daisies and other kinds of flowers Bilbo couldn’t name. The previously empty stage now had a small orchestra lightly playing some Chopin that sounded absolutely exquisite.

Heading first to the front desk where the two were to make their donation, Bilbo pulled out the credit card they had gotten right before coming to the resort. The credit card with Bilbo’s alias was small thing Balin had included for their covers, which had become central to Bilbo’s plan.

The donation was a minimum of three-hundred pounds, which Bilbo quickly paid at the front desk. An employee then showed them to a seat in the quickly filling ballroom. They were on the outskirts of the room, in the front third. As they sat down, Bilbo saw Lizzy waving at him from a few tables away. He smiled and waved back, though a moment later Lizzy had grabbed Will’s arm and was dragging him from their table to Bilbo and Thorin’s. When the arrived, Lizzy and Will sat down on Thorin’s side, as the rest of the seats were taken.

“Hiya, fellas! Glad you could make it.” Lizzy said with a warm smile.

“Glad we could make it.” Bilbo returned her smile. “Any idea how long until the event starts?”

“Should be any minute now, I think.”

Before Bilbo could respond, the music faded and someone cleared their throat into the microphone. The crowd quieted as a classily dressed older man with slicked back hair spoke into the microphone on the stage. The man, Francois he said his name was, introduced the event and what was planned. He explained that first would be a speech by the CEO of the resort, followed by a speech from the head of the Cancer Research charity organization -- to raise awareness and thank the donors and the resort. After that, dinner would be served; three courses. Finally, the raffle will be done live on the stage and the winner will claim their prize, and then people are free to mingle as they please.

The speeches passed by slowly, as speeches do, and Bilbo was quite relieved when supper came. The first dish was prosciutto bruschetta, which Bilbo found to be positively exquisite. Bilbo and Thorin were chatting with the other couple while they ate; though Thorin, as usual, didn’t say much. Being a Man-Of-Few-Words and all.

“You’re heading back tomorrow?” Lizzy asked as she placed her used napkin on her freshly polished off bruschetta. 

“Well, we’re supposed to, but I’m not quite sure I’m ready to go.” Bilbo replied with a chuckle, affectionately bumping his shoulder against Thorin’s. Thorin gave a noise of agreement as he pushed Bilbo’s shoulder back. Bilbo’s heart stuttered at the playful action, even if Thorin was only returning the gesture -- and it was an  _ act _ , Bilbo reminded himself. 

“I feel the same way.” Lizzy responded. “This weekend has been brilliant.”

“Quite.” Bilbo sighed. Their conversation was briefly interrupted as they changed the entree for the main course -- pan fried chicken breast with a chicken and pistachio farcie, potato gratin, and roasted heritage carrots.  _ Absolutely delicious _ .

“So,” Lizzy said in between bites, “I never did ask -- how was it you two met?”

Bilbo tensed, but quickly covered it up. This wasn’t the first time someone had asked, but for some reason it always set him on edge. But before he could launch into the rehearsed story, however, a deep voice to his side cut him off.

“At work.” Thorin set down his fork and knife as Bilbo made a small noise of surprise. Luckily no one seemed to notice, but Bilbo felt panic rise in his throat as Thorin continued.  _ This wasn’t what they’d practiced. Not at all. Had Thorin forgot the story? _ “Bill, here, showed up one day. Country fella in big old London.” Thorin said with --  _ was that fondness? _ Bilbo couldn’t tell, but he felt irritation begin to override panic. Was Thorin bringing that up,  _ again _ ? He thought they had moved past this. Bilbo was broken out of his thoughts by a girlish giggle from Lizzy.

“Was it love at first sight? Please tell me it was.” Lizzy asked with wide eyes, leaning on the table and abandoning her food; which, in Bilbo’s humble opinion, was a disgrace.

“Afraid not,” Thorin chuckled low, and Bilbo was about to elbow him in the gut for putting their cover in danger when Bilbo’s brain abruptly short-circuited. He couldn’t bring himself to form a single thought, as all of his attention was currently on the warm hand which was now resting on his thigh. Then Thorin was continuing, and Bilbo could do nothing but listen. “When we first met, he drove me mad.”  _ Bloody hell, his thumb is rubbing circles now. On Bilbo’s THIGH. _ “Something about the way he seemed so oblivious and naive; so soft.” The thumb rubbing circles on Bilbo’s hand paused as he said this, as though thoughtfully, before Thorin gave a light squeeze and continued his narrative. Bilbo’s heart was hammering wildly. “But as we spent more time together, I began to see him for what he really was; brave, brilliant, and the hardest worker I have ever met. Once I saw that, I was unable to take my eyes off of him ever again. I was captivated.  _ Am _ captivated.” Thorin finished, and Bilbo’s heart stopped.  _ He couldn’t possibly be… This was an act, wasn’t it?  _ His mind flew in circles, and his chest filled with a flurry of emotions as it began rapidly beating again; he felt confusion, irritation, arousal, panic, and  _ hope _ .

All that flew out the window, though, when Thorin turned to him and  _ smiled _ . It was small, barely there, and could have simply been a part of the act -- but Bilbo found every emotion swirling in him be replaced with just the quiet, tentative hope. Then Lizzy was gushing and Will was congratulating them, which left Bilbo blushing fiercely while he avoided Thorin’s warm gaze.

Thankfully, the conversation moved on to the charity raffle and what they thought about the full monty. Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to fully calm down, though, as thoughts swirled his mind. Also, that  _ fucking hand. _ Thorin still had his hand on Bilbo’s thigh, and kept rubbing those circles in that slow pace that set Bilbo on fire.

The hand stayed there all evening; through the rest of the dinner -- Thorin ate with one hand --, through dessert, and even through the raffle. While the announcer, Francois, announced that some person Bilbo had not been acquainted with won the raffle, that hand was still there. Still rubbing circles. And through it all, Bilbo couldn’t calm down. Instead, he felt warmer, if possible. Which is why, when the raffle ended and everyone began to waffle about, Bilbo announced loudly that he was feeling tired and was quite ready to return to his room now. Only after that, did the hand finally leave Bilbo’s thigh; if only in favor for his waist. It still kept Bilbo on edge, but he was more used to this feeling. They’d been doing it all weekend, after all. And so with a murmured goodbye, Bilbo and Thorin made for their room.

Bilbo wasn’t sure what he expected for when they were eventually alone in their room; but he certainly hadn’t expected to be pinned against the wall the moment the door closed, hot mouth on his own. He couldn’t help the small moan that slipped from his throat at the sudden act. Thorin licked into his mouth, eliciting another noise from Bilbo. It took until a warm hand strayed to Bilbo’s waistband, before Bilbo’s brain finally caught up and, with great effort, he placed his hands on Thorin’s chest and pushed. Their mouths broke apart, allowing Bilbo to suck in a much needed breath.

“Thorin, wha-, fuck,” Thorin nipped at his ear, “what are you doing?” Bilbo finally managed, breathless. Thorin pulled back and eyed Bilbo with heated eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing.” Thorin’s voice was a low grumble against Bilbo’s hands. Bilbo couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“I, ah-, bloody hell, would you stop that for a moment?” Bilbo cursed as Thorin returned his attention to Bilbo’s ear. “I know what you’re  _ doing _ , I mean why?” This time Thorin pulled back at him and levelled a look that could only be saying  _ are you daft? _

“Do I have to repeat what I said at dinner? I’d rather get back to snogging.” He said flatly, voice still rough. Bilbo’s eyes widened.

“I thought it was a part of the act.”

Thorin looked at him incredulously. “That wasn’t even close to our cover story, you twit.” Thorin growled before he leaned down and placed a deep kiss on Bilbo’s shocked lips.

“So… it was real? Your story?” Bilbo half-whispered, not yet convinced. Thorin’s chest rumbled with a chuckle as he placed another, slow kiss on Bilbo’s parted lips.

“It was. Now if you’re not adverse to it, I would quite like to get back to where we were.” Thorin murmured before fully placing his lips back again his own, the touch unhurried but heated. Bilbo’s mind was still struggling to catch up to everything he had just learned, but luckily he didn’t need his brain to press back against Thorin’s deliciously chapped lips. He kissed with fervour, hungry for more. Even as Thorin’s tongue pushed into his own again, he still found himself craving. He tangled his hands in Thorin’s wild locks and pulled him closer. Thorin growled at the feeling, one knee sliding between Bilbo’s thighs and pressing against his already half hard cock. Bilbo gasped at the friction, head falling back and hips jumping forward at the sensation. Thorin seized the opportunity to trail wet kisses and nips from Bilbo’s lips, to his jaw, then to his throat. There he began sucking and biting -- leaving Bilbo a shuttering, moaning mess. Then that hand was there again, playing at the edge of Bilbo’s waistband.

Hesitating, Thorin pulled away from his mistrations and looked up at Bilbo’s lust-blown eyes. “Is this okay?” Thorin asked, voice husky but cautious. All Bilbo could manage was a nod -- but that was all he needed. Not a second later, Thorin grabbed Bilbo’s bum and hoisted him up. Bilbo’s legs automatically wrapped around Thorin’s waist as he carried him to the bed. Thorin gently sat Bilbo on the bed and leaned over him, hands framing either side of Bilbo’s face. He stared at Bilbo with a hooded gaze, and Bilbo felt his breath catch.

“You’re truly beautiful. You know that, right?” Thorin murmured, before diving forward and capturing Bilbo’s lips again, eliciting a whine from Bilbo. Then he was gone, and Bilbo mourned the loss. Not for long, however, as a second later the hot mouth was kissing a trail down his throat as large hands undid Bilbo’ suit buttons and dealt with his tie. Thorin hadn’t even gotten to his collarbones before Bilbo’s suit jacket and tie was gone. Then his mouth, teeth, and tongue were on Bilbo’s chest as Thorin worked off his own clothes. Bilbo couldn’t help the upward thrust his hips did, desperate for friction, as he panted from Thorin’s attentions. His breath came fast, panting, and frenzied while his cock strained against his trousers. Thorin’s teeth scraped across Bilbo’s nipple, before licking, then repeating. Bilbo gasped each time; then Thorin was moving on. He licked a trail down to Bilbo’s jerking hips. He proceeded to slowly, torturously, undo Bilbo’s trousers before pulling them off -- along with this pants -- in one swift gesture. Bilbo’s arousal bobbed against his stomach, leaking exposed. Thorin slid his hands over Bilbo’s hips to hold them down and then his tongue was there, sliding from the base up to the tip, before flicking over the slit. Bilbo moaned and bucked against Thorin’s large hands, his abdomen clenching as he was filled with pleasure.

Then Thorin’s mouth engulfed all of Bilbo, and he couldn’t help but utter a cry at the sensation. Thorin bobbed his head, sucked and flattened his tongue against Bilbo’s leaking cock. The sensation was all too much, and it was only a few moments of glorious sucking before Bilbo felt his balls tighten. He barely had a chance to groan out a warning before Thorin gave one last pull and Bilbo came. Thorin took all of it, and the sight of him swallowing his come made Bilbo shiver. Then he slumped, breath heaving, as Thorin finally released his softened, sensitive cock.

Thorin crawled over him and placed a deep kiss on Bilbo’s tired lips, his mouth tasting salty and distinctly of Bilbo -- which made Bilbo shiver all over again.

“Turn over?” Thorin mumbled against Bilbo’s lips. Bilbo complied after a moment of processing, pulling over and rolling onto his stomach. He felt a pillow slide under his hips, then his ass was gripped tightly. Bilbo’s breath hitched in anticipation, which turned into a broken moan when something that was very much  _ not _ a finger prodded his entrance.

“Ah-, Thorin!” The wet muscle circled around the entrance, making Bilbo squirm where he lie on the bed. Then Thorin plunged his tongue past the ring of muscles and Bilbo gave a low, hoarse groan. Thorin began working him open with his tongue, and Bilbo found his cock twitching, already half hard.

“Thorin,” Bilbo muttered breathlessly, “Thorin. More.” No sooner had it left his mouth than did the glorious feeling disappear altogether. Bilbo whimpered, hips unconsciously chasing after that sweet, sweet sensation. He felt Thorin’s weight get off the bed and heard shuffling around, presumably in his bag, before Thorin returned. Bilbo watched, panting, as Thorin poured something that looked like lotion onto his fingers. Then Thorin was hovering over him, slick fingers poised over his hole. He leaned forward, and the moment his lips touched Bilbo’s, one thick finger plunged into his hole. Bilbo hissed at the feeling of the cold intrusion, but soon the lotion warmed and the finger working him open left Bilbo barely capable of holding back his noises. Thorin let go of his lips in favor of taking a nipple in his teeth, and by the time Thorin slipped in a second finger and began scissoring, Bilbo was already fully hard. Bilbo couldn’t help the breathy cries of  _ more  _ and  _ Thorin!  _

Soon, two finger turned to three and not long after Bilbo was pushing down his hips in time with Thorin’s hand. “Going to, ah, going to come soon.” Bilbo panted. Thorin grunted in response, before suddenly pulling his fingers out and leaving Bilbo unbearably empty. Not for long, though; for not a beat later something  _ much _ larger pressed against his entrance.

“Okay?” Thorin asked, arousal pushing against Bilbo’s hole. Bilbo nodded his head frantically. He inhaled sharply as Thorin’s cock pressed past the first ring off muscles, substantially wider than the fingers which had been there not long before. Thorin slowly pushed in, centimeter by centimeter. Not one for waiting, though, Bilbo couldn’t stop himself from pushing down on Thorin’s cock, hissing at the pain. It was worth it though, to hear the surprised groan rip from Thorin’s mouth and see the sweet bliss on his face as he was fully seated in Bilbo. Thorin held perfectly still, hands vices on Bilbo’s hips.

“Are you…” Thorin began, but trailed off. He tried again; “Are you okay?” Bilbo paused for a moment, allowing himself to adjust to the feeling of Thorin inside of him. The pain was still there, but it was already fading.

Bilbo wrapped his hands around Thorin’s neck, locked hooded eyes with him, before murmuring a throaty  _ now. _ With a low and desperate groan, Thorin pulled all the way out and then plunged back in, hips slapping against Bilbo’s loudly. Bilbo’s plaintive moans mixed with Thorin’s guttural grunts as he thrusted hard into Bilbo’s hole over and over again. The sound of wet smacking and moans filled the room as Thorin fucked Bilbo into the mattress.

“Thorin,  _ ah- _ ,” Bilbo was meeting Thorin’s thrusts with his own now, “won’t, won’t last much longer.” He managed finally. Thorin growled in response, hips speeding up. 

Bilbo wrapped his hand around his leaking cock and began pumping it in time with Thorin’s thrusts. It was a mind-blowing sensation, and it was not long after that he felt the telltale tightening in his abdomen and balls. And then he was coming long ropes onto his stomach, head falling back and a harsh cry ripping from his throat. As he rode out his orgasm, he felt Thorin’s hips stutter, before his cock pulsed and Bilbo was filled completely with Thorin’s come. Thorin groaned long and hard as he gave a few more wild thrusts. Then he collapsed on Bilbo, knocking the breath out of him.

Chuckling breathlessly, Bilbo pushed on Thorin’s shoulders. “Get up, you big oaf. You’re going to crush me.”

Thorin muttered  _ fine _ before gently pulling out and rolling over onto his back. The two lie side by side, panting and hands intertwined. There was a nice lull -- just the sound of breathing. After a little while of lying in the silence, Bilbo rolled over with a slight wince at the pain in his hips.

“That,” Bilbo murmured after a moment, “was bloody amazing.”

There was a pause -- and then, slowly, a laugh rose from Thorin, gradually increasing in volume until the bed shook with the force of it. Bilbo’s face broke out into a grin, and he found himself feeling totally, completely, and inexplicably  _ happy _ .

  
  
  
  


Bilbo was woken up to the sound of his phone ringing. Groaning, he pulled out of Thorin’s warm embrace and over to the source of the blasphemous noise. Thorin grumbled something in his sleep at the sudden absence. Bilbo grabbed the phone, succeeding after a few tries, and checked the screen.  _ Five? Who in the hell is calling at -- headquarters? _ Bilbo quickly answered the phone and greeted Balin.

His eyes widened and a grin swept across his face, excitement bubbling up, as he talked the Balin. A moment later, he hung up and rolled over on top of Thorin, who grunted in response.

“Thorin! Thorin! Wake up!” Bilbo said eagerly, pressing light kisses all over Thorin’s face in an attempt to rouse the sleepy man. One eye cracked open and stared at Bilbo groggily.

“What is it?” Thorin asked, voice rough with sleep.

“It worked. Our plan worked!”

Thorin abruptly sat up, wide awake. “It worked?” He looked gobsmacked as Bilbo sat in front of him.

“Yes! Balin said they traced our donation to the CEO’s account, which was then transferred to an account under a pseudonym that is a known affiliate of The Hand. With that, we have the warrant we need to check the cash given to the Cancer Research organization and verify that it was laundered.” Bilbo explained heatedly, smile nearly cracking his face.

“We actually did it.” Thorin said breathlessly. Then, with a matching smile lighting his face, he leaned forward and placed a lingering, deep kiss on Bilbo’s smiling lips. Pulling away, he looked into Bilbo’s eyes with such strong affection that Bilbo’s heart stuttered. And then a delighted laugh slowly burst out of Bilbo, to which Thorin grinned and leaned forward, snogging him fully and silencing his laughter.


End file.
